


Meeting the Band

by Surrealx3



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Rhodey Is a Good Bro, Tony is a fanboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 21:43:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9923390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Surrealx3/pseuds/Surrealx3
Summary: I prompted myself to write about Tony fanboying over a band. But not just any band, The Howling Commandos.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to subliminal message other people into writing this but when that failed, I went ahead and did it myself.

Tony swallowed an unmanly squeal and he clutched the tickets to his chest. It wasn’t really the tickets he was thrilled about, he had gotten them himself, it was the fact that Rhodey finally agreed to go to the concert with him. Which was really one thing and still not thing that had Tony giddy. The fact of the matter was Pepper would be out of the country to visit distant relatives or something during the concert and Tony had finally plucked up the courage to get backstage tickets. If Pepper wasn’t going to hide his star struck stupidity and catch him when he fainted, the only other person he could ask was Rhodey. But Howling Commandos wasn’t really Rhodey’s type of music. He (reportedly) would rather be stabbed in the ear a hundred and thirteen times than go to one of their concerts. After his last ditch efforts to get Rhodey to say yes, he left the tickets at Rhodey’s house and slunk home, dejected and sad.

Then Rhodey’s internal bro code kicked in and here he was, agreeing to go to the concert.

“You owe me for this,” Rhodey emphasized repeatedly. “Big time.”

“Anything you want, care bear, just say the word,” Tony assured him. “You know you’re the best, right? The bestest best? Bestest best bro ever?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rhodey rolled his eyes at him, “I know how much this means to you. I’m wearing whatever I like. I hope you know that.”

“I can deal,” Tony agreed, totally believing that until the day of the concert came. He stared, horrified at Rhodey when he opened the door.

“Are you wearing fucking _khakis_?” Tony sounded scandalized, “You’re kidding me, aren’t you? Please say you’re kidding me. You’re going to embarrass me in front of the band.”

“I am wearing khakis,” Rhodey said deliberately slow, “And going to the concert for you, only you and will never go again because I only put myself through this shit for you, of all people. Now get in the damn car before I change my mind.”

Tony pouted but knew he lost that argument. It didn’t matter once they were on the road though, the closer they got, the more Tony buzzed with excitement until he was practically vibrating in his seat. He found out about the Howling Commandos a few years back when he heard about guitarist losing an arm. He was just strolling through SI when he heard a few employees clicking their tongues with pity at how he would never be able to play again even though his band was pretty good. It sounded like the type of challenge Tony loved. So Tony had taken it upon himself to set up the project, even pitching the idea to Howard as something SI could do in the future. He never actually got to meet the man who got the first Stark Prosthetic but he did go to the concert for the band. And promptly fell in love. With the band. Not the lead singer with summer blue eyes. Or the guitarist with the metal arm and reckless grin. Just the band.

Anyway, Tony had been keeping up with the band (and harboring a hefty crush) ever since.

The venue was just starting to let people in when they showed up. It was hardly Madison Square Garden but it was nice sized place, built for successful but not mainstream bands. The two breezed through to pick up their VIP passes then join the audience. All the spots where you could feel the performers’ sweat were already taken up, to Rhodey’s unending relief. The air in the venue was electric, everyone already pumped up before the lights even dimmed. Even Rhodey looked way more excited now.

The lights finally dimmed and the MC came up to introduce the opening act. They weren’t bad but they didn’t seem impressive enough to open for the Howling Commandos. Finally, they finished their set and stepped off stage.

Without even an introduction, Steve Rogers stepped on stage. A hush fell among the audience. The band came up, one by one, Steve as vocals, Bucky as lead guitar, Dum Dum Dugan on bass, Jim Morita on drums, Jacques Dernier as both back-up guitar and back-up vocals. While they set up, Dum Dum grabbed a mic and asked, “Where’s our fucking applause?”

That caused an uproar that put a hilariously startled look on Dum Dum’s face.

Bucky asked into his mic, his voice barely reaching over the screams of adoration, “What’s with the look? You got what you asked for.”

The mic barely caught Dum Dum’s sheepish chuckle. He made a bunch of hand signs that basically meant that he was going to leave the mic alone. Tony laughed at the interaction along with most of the crowd. This was part of the performance. The friendship between band and their interactions mattered to the fan base almost as much as their performance.

Tony loved their music. Naturally. They were all very talented musicians, each with something different to bring to the table. But he almost wept with joy once they were done. He ushered Rhodey down to the door clearly labeled ‘VIP entry only’ and showed the gentlemen guarding the door their passes.

A girl with a clipboard was on the other side, as if she was just there waiting for them. She chirped cheerfully, “Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Maxine and I’ll be showing you to the room where you’ll meet the band.” She waved for them to follow her then continued talking, “Right now, the band is refreshing themselves, making themselves smell less awful, just to meet you.” She stopped in a large room full of couches and cushions. There was a table that doubled as a mini-fridge in the middle of the room and glasses sitting on top along with platters of cheese and crackers. “Help yourself to the refreshments. The band should be with you shortly.”

Then she left them there. To stew.

“Okay, we are not going to overthink this, right, Tony?” Rhodey punched his shoulder, “No overthinking, panicking or anything. We’re just going to enjoy the drinks and refreshments.” He went into the fridge and got out a bottle of scotch. He whistled, impressed, “They don’t play around with refreshments here, do they?”

“Do you think they’ll hate me?” Tony blurted out.

Rhodey poured him a generous cup, “No, they’ll love you because you’re awesome and their biggest fan.” He pushed the drink into Tony’s hand, “now drink and relax.”

Tony took a slight sip then asked anxiously, “Is the get up too much? Black and black isn’t really cool anymore is it. I knew it, I should have gone with the red shirt.”

“You look great, the pants really compliment your ass,” Rhodey replied dutifully, pouring himself a drink.

“Oh my gosh, you look like such a fucking nerd, they’ll kick both of us out. I knew I shouldn’t have let you wear khakis,” Tony panicked.

Rhodey took a couple of crackers and stuffed them into Tony’s mouth. “Say one more thing about my khakis and I’m leaving.”

“Mmm mm,” Tony nodded. Now that his mouth was full, he had to settle with bouncing his leg nervously.

The silence that descending was suddenly broken when someone said, “Hey, aren’t you Tony Stark?”

They both looked up to see Dum Dum grinning at them from ear to ear at the doorway. “I didn’t think you listened to our trash.”

Out of all the possibilities Tony prepared for, it somehow didn’t occur to him that he’d be recognized. From the way Rhodey snorted, that was apparently obvious from the look on his face. Tony found himself blurting out, “It’s not trash, it’s art.”

Dum Dum’s smile softened. “I like you, kid.” He caught someone out of the corner of his eye and waved them along. “Hey, guys, come meet Tony and…” he trailed off, looking at Rhodey.

“James,” Rhodey answered, “But honestly, feel free to ignore me. I’m just here for moral support.”

Jim and Jacques showed up at the door, peering in curiously. Dum Dum introduced them with a grand sweep of the arms, “Fellas, this is Tony and James, the only guy in the building wearing khakis.”

“Ha,” Tony said victoriously, “See? It’s weird.”

Rhodey knocked back the rest of his scotch and went to pour more, “I cannot deal with you people sober.”

Jacques sat beside him and got his own cup, “We have similar ideas, my friend.” Rhodey handed off the bottle to him. Jacques suggested playfully, “Let’s make this into a drinking game. Take a drink whenever they say or do something stupid.”

Rhodey grinned, “Sure, Tony drove anyway.”

From then on, the conversation flowed almost too smoothly. Jim was fascinated with SI developments, Dum Dum was going and giving his two cents, Jacques and Rhodey were steadily drinking and Tony actually felt comfortable. Then someone lifted the scotch from his hands and his entire world screeched to a halt. He hadn’t even noticed Bucky approached, too busy talking to Jim about one of his recent inventions. Watching him now though, drinking out of the same cup Tony had been using, long hair pulled back in a bun, long neck, unbelievable eyelashes, chest sculpted, every bit as hot in personal as Tony had feared, Tony couldn’t say a damn thing. He just gapped like an idiot.

Bucky noticed his gapping and winked, “Needed that.”

“Don’t be rude, Buck,” Steve Rogers tore Tony’s attention away, his blue eyes openly amused. He smiled apologetically at Tony. “Sorry about him. His ma’s been tryin’ to teach him manners since he was in diapers. They just never seem to stick.”

Tony continued to gap gracelessly.

“Tony, hey, pal,” Rhodey prodded him, “I’m already realllllly drunk so try not to do anythin’ stupid, ‘kay? No tellin’ em you want to lick their biceps or somethin’.”

Tony flushed, “I wasn’t going to.”

“You sure?” Rhodey looked at him critically, “You got the ‘please fuck me’ look goin’ and you’re not really the greatest at censor-shit.”

Tony could have died of embarrassment then and there. He had forgotten that Rhodey’s a really honest drunk. Honest and oblivious. “Please stop talking.”

Drunk Rhodey seemed to take that as a challenge, “No, you’re gonna fucking say something weird about double-teaming you and some other shit that I, as your best friend, simple do not need to hear ‘cause honestly Tones, you don’t know shit about keeping fantasies to yourself. Pepper may like to hear what you want to do with their dicks but I don’t need to hear it.”

Tony attempted to face palm himself into oblivion. “If I apologize for everything I’ve ever said, will you shut up?”

Rhodey seemed to think about it. He looked Tony dead in the eye and said, “Apologize for the ink bomb.”

Tony sighed, “I’m sorry for the ink bomb.”

“Say it was a shitty prank.”

“What, no,” Tony was scandalized by the very thought, “That prank was funny, wonderfully executed, artistic, it was work of art, Rhodey.”

Rhodey immediately tattled to Bucky, “He masturbates to pictures of your metal arm. I swear, it’s some type of fetish.”

“Okay, it was shitty, I only come up with shitty pranks,” Tony cried, “Please don’t say anything else.”

Rhodey sat back with a satisfied smile while Tony mourned his dignity. He was too scared to look at anyone. He could hear Dum Dum wheezing from laughing too much but the rest were silent.

“My arm?” Bucky finally asked, sounding breathless.

Tony groaned, “You consented to letting me have a picture of you when the arm was attached and you were shirtless and it was just one time,” that was a blatant lie, it was several very guilty times. “I’m sorry.”

“That, you,” Bucky sounded shocked, “When they said Mr. Stark, they meant you?”

Tony peeked up at him and was relieved to see that he was more surprised than disgusted, “Ugh, did they really call me Mr. Stark? Howard wanted nothing to do with the project so I was mostly in-charge but that was kind of my exams period so I couldn’t be there in person.”

Steve said, scolding, “And you waited this long to meet us?”

Tony blushed bright red, “Well I’m sort of a huge fan so I figured it’d be weird since you might think I think you owe me because you really don’t, I’m just glad the arm works so well.” He suddenly felt a hand pull his hair (that alone was enough to make his cock jump) and a mouth covered his. It took a minute for him to process that fact that he was being kissed by Bucky Barnes. It wasn’t even a sweet ‘thank you’ kiss. It was more like ‘I’d fuck you against the wall if there weren’t people around’ kiss. Which Tony would totally be onboard with.

Tony stared at him, dazed when he ended the kiss. Bucky still had his hand in Tony’s hair and he said firmly, “I’m keeping you.”

“At least ask for permission first, Buck,” Steve said, sounding more amused than scolding.

“Anything you want to do is yes,” Tony assured them quickly. He would be embarrassed at how eager he sounded if he didn’t get such heated looks in return.

“Would you guys mind letting James crash in one of your hotel rooms?” Steve asked his bandmates, a wide smirk proclaiming his intentions. “It doesn’t look like Tony can drive him home tonight.”


End file.
